Page 104 of Jax & Knox

Jax nods, his expression matching Knox's deadly calm. "Agreed."

Knox crouches in front of me, his hands framing my face, forcing me to look at him.

"You're safe," he says, his voice fierce and protective. "I promise you, Ainsley. You're safe."

But as I sit there, staring between them, I can't shake the feeling that something is about to break.

That the peace we've built is about to shatter.

And there's nothing I can do to stop it.

EIGHTEEN

KNOX

The second I read that text, everything inside me goes cold and sharp. It's like someone dumped ice water straight into my veins, freezing me from the inside out. My muscles lock up, my jaw clenches so hard I can feel my teeth grinding together.

I'm coming for you.

Four words. That's all it takes to turn the whole night sideways. Four words from a man who should've stayed in Ainsley's past, buried and forgotten. But here he is, crawling back into her life like the parasite he is, threatening everything we've built together.

Jax is already moving, phone to his ear, voice low and clipped as he hits Mason's number. I stay crouched in front of Ainsley, my hands on her knees, feeling the fine tremor running through her. It's not just fear, it's the kind of bone-deep terror that comes from knowing exactly what someone can do because you've lived through it before. Her eyes are wide, fixed on the phone in her hand like it might bite her, like those words might jump off the screen and become real. Owen is upstairs sleeping, safe in his bed, with no idea that the monster from his mother's past is closing in. That fact sits in my chest like a live grenade with the pin already pulled, counting down to an explosion I can't see coming.

"Look at me," I tell her, my voice rougher than I meant.

She does. Her pupils are blown wide, her breathing shallow and uneven.

"He's not getting through that door. He's not getting near you. He's not getting near Owen. I don't care what I have to do. I don't care who I have to go through. That bastard doesn't touch what's mine."

She whispers, "You can't promise that."

She's wrong. I can. I will. I'll burn the whole goddamn world down before I let Justin lay one finger on her or our boy.

I stand and pull her up with me, keeping one arm locked around her waist, holding her to me. She's still trembling, and I can feel her heart hammering against my chest. Jax is already barking orders into the phone, full lockdown, blackout protocols, every brother who can ride needs to be here twenty minutes ago. I take the bag she packed earlier from her hand, the go-bag we put together two weeks ago when she first told me Justin had been calling, leaving messages, showing up at places he shouldn't know about, and set it by the door. We're not staying at the clubhouse. Too many eyes. Too many ways in. Too many people who could get caught in the crossfire if this goes bad.

"Go upstairs," I tell her, keeping my voice steady even though every instinct in me is screaming to get them both out of here right now. "Stay with Owen. Five minutes. That's all I need."

She nods, her throat working as she swallows hard, and disappears up the stairs. I watch until she's out of sight, making sure she's moving, making sure she's safe for these few precious minutes. The second she's gone, Jax and I lock eyes across the room. His face is as hard and deadly as I've ever seen it.

"We don't just hide," I say, my voice flat and cold. "We end him."

Jax's jaw flexes, that muscle jumping the way it does when he's thinking something violent. "Agreed. But we move her first. Cabin's ready. Generator's tested. Water, food, security system. No paper trail. No way to trace it back to us or the club."

I nod once, sharp and quick. "Steele and Riot ride escort. Tiny stays here with Lucy and the kids until we give the all-clear. Mason and Dagger coordinate the rest. I want eyes on every road, every motel, every place that bastard might be hiding."

We move fast, with the kind of speed that comes from years of riding together, trusting each other with our lives. By the time Ainsley comes back down with Owen still asleep in her arms, his little face peaceful, with no idea that everything is about to change, the common room is full of cuts and hard faces. Brothers I'd trust with my life. Brothers who know what's at stake. Mason is already on-site, Dagger beside him, both of them radiating the kind of quiet danger that comes before a storm. The president's eyes are flat and dangerous when he looks at me, and I see the unspoken promise there: we protect our own, no matter the cost.

"You take the lead on this," Mason says, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. "He's your woman's problem. You want him gone, we make him gone. But we do it clean enough that it doesn't blow back on the club. We can't afford ATF or local PD sniffing around our business right now."

"Clean isn't the priority," I answer, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Dead is."

Mason doesn't argue. He just nods, and that's all the permission I need.

We load out through the side door under cover of darkness, moving like shadows. Two bikes, blacked-out cage, no lights until we're past the second turn and well away from prying eyes. I ride shotgun with Ainsley and Owen in the back while Jax drives, his hands steady on the wheel, his eyes constantly scanning the mirrors and the road ahead. Steele and Riot flank us the whole way up into the pines, their engines a low rumble that feels like a promise of violence if anyone tries to stop us. The cabin is exactly where it's supposed to be, deep enough that cell service is a rumor and the only road in is one we control, one we can watch and defend if it comes to that.

I do a full sweep while Jax stays with them in the running vehicle, engine idling, ready to bolt if something goes wrong. Windows, doors, tree line, the old game cameras we installed last fall after a rival club got too curious about our territory. Clear. Every angle, every approach, every possible entry point. Only then do I wave them in, my shoulders finally dropping just a fraction from their defensive hunch.

Inside, I set the alarm, check the backup generator, open the gun safe, and start laying out what we need. Two handguns, one shotgun, extra ammo, knives, zip ties, duct tape. Everything needed for either defense or offense, depending on how this plays out. Ainsley is quiet, arms wrapped around herself, watching every move I make like she's memorizing it, like she's trying to convince herself this is real and we're actually going to keep her safe. Jax settles Owen in the portable crib in the smaller bedroom, tucking the blanket around him with surprising gentleness for a man with hands that have broken bones and crushed windpipes, and comes back out, closing the door softly behind him.